A Story In Sparta - Chapter 1

A pristine draught enveloped the historical and magnificent town of Sparta as people awaited on the gigantic steps retreating into the glistening teal sea. The horizon of the dawn was dotted with fleets of lost courageous ships prudently rowing towards their indigenous homeland with renowned accolades to be applauded. The sea gently extended its arms upon the lower landing of the steps as it caressed my feet before retreating back. The forward fleet hoisted the Trojan Flag which was proudly flurrying in the air because of the breaths of those died bringing glory to Sparta. On the bow of the Greek ship was a man in his mid-thirties as his defined body was concealed in the shadows of his clean bloody armour. His blue eyes shone with unsatisfied lust for blood. I sobbed upon seeing his cheerful smile that was not curtailed by this spontaneous war.

The General’s playful demeanour transformed into a stiff posture. As the ships neared the land the King Menelaus and the eloped Queen Helen appeared in front of the bow, just opposite to my father. The King was gleaming with haughtiness for his victory had spread to lands faraway and the ruins of mighty Troy, claimed to be protected by its high walls. The ships were docked near the junction of the sea and the solitude stony steps. The common forks stood at the topmost landing of the step at an elevated height of 10 meters. As the still waters of the Mediterranean were disrupted by the wooden canopied boats, two guard in armour on my either side bowed down in the presence of the King and the General. The Royal couple, descending on the steps in traditional Spartan clothing, was preceded by the General. My father announced authoritatively the return of their Queen as the Viceroy welcomed them with elegance. Soon the crowd had uniformly created a white carpet walk on the pavement for the couple. With retreating joy and humility of the King and Queen, their carriage withdrew towards the capital of Sparta grandiloquently. I embraced my father in a tight grasp as subtle sob erupted from my throat. The day was very important to me for my father had returned from the perilous war as well as my mother’s birthday. Even since the age of seven, we would visit the remembrance yard to replenish her grave with liveliness and the trust that she was still well revered in our family.

But everything flowed down the opposite stream. Just as I was about to us him to accompany me to our annual expedition, he strode towards boat. On the deck emerged two women dressed in variegated warm tones of Trojan dresses. The General extended his hand as the other elder woman descended upon the Spartan land with a sense of hostility. The other younger lady followed her mother’s footsteps. I assumed that they were prisoners of war nonetheless reality and assumptions were on diverse path. Father introduced her as Her Lady, Lady Jiona of Troy. With disbelief evident in my reaction, I glanced at the duo with bitterness and with an impugnable sense of unfairness. The daughter of the Lady smugly glanced at me with hostility as I braced myself for the obstacles that I would have to overcome from then.